


like a prayer for which no words exist

by chlorobenzene



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pointless fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 12:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11509407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlorobenzene/pseuds/chlorobenzene
Summary: Nobody told him that home could be a person.





	like a prayer for which no words exist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuzuyaJuuzou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzuyaJuuzou/gifts).



> there will be a time when i write some shuake with an actual plot, but today is not the day. title is from richard siken's poem 'you are jeff'.
> 
> belated birthday fic for bun!! happy birthday, and i hope you enjoy this <3

It’s Sunday.

There’s a cup of coffee in front of him—café  con leche, the foreign name rolling off his tongue like a yet fully-mastered spell. Akira has been experimenting, and Akechi is his willing test subject.

“How is it?” Akira is looking at him from across the counter as Akechi takes a sip, expectant. He’s wearing a white shirt underneath his customary green apron, exposing the pale stripe of his nape. It gives him an almost unassuming air, softening his edges—Akechi could understand why LeBlanc’s customers love him, this part-time barista with his deft hands and his quiet charm. They have never seen him bring shadows to their knees, have never seen how those deft hands hold a loaded gun without trembling. They have no right to, either—Joker belongs to the Phantom Thieves as much as the Phantom Thieves belong to Joker, and no one else.   

“It’s—quite strong,” he replies, licking his lips. Akira stares; Akechi pretends not to notice. “Stronger than the ones I’ve ever tasted, at least, although if I recall correctly this drink is supposed to be strong?”

“Ah, yes. Sojiro recommended me a new blend for this, said if I could get it right he might think about putting it on the menu.”

“And?”  
  
There’s an unmistakable pride in Akira’s voice when he says, “I’m afraid you’ll have to start paying for your cup starting next Sunday, _Goro._ ”

And _ah_ , here is a side of him not even the Phantom Thieves are privy to—Akira with heat in his eyes, Akira with the corners of his lips curling up like smoke. LeBlanc is empty but for the two of them—Akechi knows he could take his leave now, bid his goodbye to the forest fire of a boy behind the counter before it’s too late. He could have taken his leave two hours ago, when the last customer put his empty cup down and Akira flipped the sign over.       

“Stay.” Akira’s touch is feather-light on his wrist.

Akechi thinks of the files Sae needs him to look at, the half-written paper he has to finish by Wednesday. Thinks of his empty apartment and the milk he might have forgotten to put back in the fridge. There’s a meeting at ten in the morning he needs to attend, a few emails he needs to write.

He stays.

 

* * *

 

They end up in Akira’s bed—they almost always end up in Akira’s bed, except maybe for the few times they end up on the floor, LeBlanc’s booths, its pristine counter. And every time, Akechi can’t help the way he tenses whenever Akira first touches him, as if bracing himself for a cruel punchline or an actual punch—he knows, more than anyone, that he deserves both. 

Akira gives him neither.

He’s so gentle with him that it’s terrifying, the way Akira unbuttons his shirt and puts his mouth on the sharp jut of Akechi’s collarbones with his eyes closed, his lips soft. How those fingertips run through his skin the way he explores a palace: carefully, thoroughly.

When Akira kisses him, all of Akechi’s demons quiet down.

“Akira,” Akechi says, breathless. His fingers fumbles with the zipper of Akira’s pants, the buttons of his shirt—shedding layer upon layer until there’s nothing left but Akira himself, and the heat still burning in those charcoal eyes. Here is Akira, laid bare for him, and him alone.

Akira hums, the vibration pleasant as he nibbles of Akechi’s lips. He doesn’t bother holding back a moan, doesn’t bother holding anything back as he returns the kiss with an almost feverish zeal. Akechi remembers how messy their first kiss was, noses bumping and teeth knocking, neither of them knowing what to do with their lips. They have gone a long way since then.

“Do you want—”

Akechi nods, too busy running his teeth along Akira’s lips to answer him out loud. He spreads his legs apart, moaning into Akira’s mouth as slicked fingers circle his rim before slowly, gently pushing in. It doesn’t hurt, even when he fully eases in—Akira always makes sure of that, stopping at the slightest hint of pain in Akechi’s eyes even on days where Akechi wants it to hurt, days where even pain is preferable to the guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. A tiny, awful part of Akechi wants to hate him for it, for _this_.

 

* * *

 

He confronted Akira about it, once. “I’m not a _princess_ you need to save, Kurusu-kun,” he had spat, all teeth. He remembered being tired, that day—tired of trying to figure out what Akira wanted with him, of the futile attempts at deciphering the softness in Akira’s gaze whenever he looked at him. He didn’t know the rules to this game they were playing, and Akira held all the cards.

Akira looked at him, frowning. “I don’t—”  
  
But Akechi wasn’t done. “I don’t need your _rescuing_!”

“ _Goro,_ ” Akira said, voice low, and Akechi tried telling himself the warmth in his chest meant nothing. “This isn’t a rescue mission.”  
  
“No, _no_!” Akechi shook his head, digging his nails into his palm to stop himself from shaking because here was Akira, always the hero, telling Akechi that he loved him, and the most frightening thing is that Akechi didn’t know which could be worse: that it was true, or that it wasn’t. “I don’t need _pity_ , especially not from you, and if you think you want to play the role of a knight in shining armor then well, _too bad_ , I’m not playing this game.”

Emotions flashed in Akira’s eyes in quick succession—shock, bewilderment, a split-second of what might have been sadness, until his gaze morphs back into his usual veneer of calm, his undecipherable softness. “I’m not playing any game,” he said, eyes so earnest that it’s almost painful to look at him. Akechi wanted to believe him, he simply didn’t know if he _could_.

Akira seemed to notice it, the tense line of his shoulders and the way Akechi holds himself a little too stiff, as if nursing some invisible wound.

“I meant what I said,” Akira told him, a gentle smile on his lips. Akechi had to will himself not to squirm under his gaze.

“And I’m no knight, either. You told me yourself, didn’t you,” the smile twisted into something more impish, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“I’m a thief.”

 

* * *

 

Love doesn’t make everything okay; Akechi doesn’t expect it to. They are new to this, their bodies have become far too accustomed to violence, him much more so than Akira. But Akira is patient, and Akechi is—he is _trying_. And it’s enough, somehow. Enough to get them through the good days and the bad days, through nightmares after nightmares.

Enough to bring them to _this_.

 

* * *

 

Akechi doesn’t plan to stay the night, really. But Akira is warm next to him, his breath even and his hair soft where his head rests against Akechi’s neck, and drifting off to sleep seems like the most logical option. He knows he needs to get up, to get ready for the day—he has a meeting to attend and superiors who take great delight in reminding him about how precarious his position is, and Akechi will not give them the satisfaction of pushing him back to rock bottom after he has clawed his way out of it.

“I thought I would never know what this feels like,” Akechi says to the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.

Next to him, Akira stirs. “Sex?” He asks, voice quiet and rough with sleep.

“No,” Akechi answers, after a moment. “Being wanted.”  
  
He can feel Akira’s eyes on him, the way his breathing changes as if he’s trying to say something. He says nothing, in the end, a rare sight—Joker, the famed leader of the Phantom Thieves, at a loss for words. But his arms tighten around Akechi’s waist protectively, lips brushing the slope of Akechi’s shoulder, and maybe words aren’t necessary, this time.

Akechi closes his eyes, letting his head rest on Akira’s chest. This time, he would allow himself five more minutes of sleep. This time, he would allow himself even this.

 

* * *

 

He gets up, eventually. There are two toothbrushes in the bathroom, a few of his shirts in Akira’s closet. Neither of them says anything about it.

“Goro.”

Akechi turns around in the middle of buttoning up his shirt, smiling at the sight of Akira yawning and rubbing his eyes, his head a mess of curls sticking up. “Go back to sleep, Akira.”

Akira simply shakes his head at that. The bed creaks under him as he gets up, but his bare feet make no sound as he crosses the room to where Akechi is standing. _A thief._

He smells like coffee and sex, his fingertips cold when it brushes Akechi’s skin. “I’m planning to try out the recipe for caramel apple latte, tonight,” he says. He means a different thing.

“I’ll swing by,” Akechi answers. He means a different thing, too.

Akira kisses him when he’s about to leave, soft and quick, and Akechi finds himself looking forward to going back to this—to LeBlanc, to a cup of coffee on the counter. To Akira.

There is a name for it, he thinks. For the familiar feeling of Akira’s lips against his, Akira’s skin and the way his hair curled on his nape. Akira’s scent, too, the breadth of his shoulders and the birthmark low on his back.

 

* * *

 

It’s already late when he returns to LeBlanc—the sign has been flipped over, the last customer has left. But Akira is standing behind the counter, eyes gentle and smile soft. His lips taste like apples, tonight.

There is a name for this. Akechi tastes the way it sounds on his tongue, surprises them both when he says it out loud.

“I’m home.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! kudos and comments are appreciated <3


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